


Deep Dark

by neosaiyanangel



Category: Alan Wake (Video Game)
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, Darkness, Drinking & Talking, F/M, Fling - Freeform, Manifestation, Multi, Possession, Threesome - M/M/M, Words Come to Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27461215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neosaiyanangel/pseuds/neosaiyanangel
Summary: His muse has always known what he truly wants.
Relationships: Barbara Jagger/Thomas Zane, Tor Anderson/Thomas Zane/Odin Anderson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1
Collections: Fic In A Box





	Deep Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cadmean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadmean/gifts).



“Tom? Tom, we’re here.”

Tom opened his eyes slowly. The rocking of the car had been a lullaby. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep.

He looked out into the darkness. His wife had been driving them through the twisting turns of the mountains to the little town she grew up in in the hopes of getting some rest. But was that even possible?

He was Thomas Zane. Poet extraordinaire. It wasn’t likely he would escape his fame here. In fact, they would probably be even  _ more _ likely to recognize him. He was a celebrity married to a home-town girl, after all. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had cardboard cut-outs of him. He knew for certain one woman, the supposed crazy lamp lady, had a thing for him.

“Are you ready for some rest and relaxation, my naughty boy?” Barbara asked. His lips, as always, twitched at her nickname for him. His catty muse. She always would have a special place in his heart.

“If it’s possible,” he replied, stretching as she slowed the car going over a bridge.

“Hmm.” Barbara pursed her lips. “You still haven’t really bugged me about the surprise I told you about.”

“Because I know it’s pointless to ask,” he noted. “You’d never give it away.”

She laughed. “Oh, you know me all too well.”

It was quiet for a few minutes. He took in what little sights he could see in the darkness. The town was lit up ahead of them. Small but inviting.

He couldn’t help but to breathe in a sharp breath suddenly. Something in the darkness…

Before he could try to look more closely, they zoomed clean into the light of the nearest street lamp. Tom looked back to try and find what he’d seen.

Nothing. There was nothing he could see. Strange. Must’ve been a trick of the darkness.

It didn’t take long before they pulled up in front of a diner.

“Let’s go in,” Barbara said in an insistent voice.

“I’m not hungry,” Tom protested even as she jumped out of the car.

“Stop whining. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

Strange words. Nevertheless, he knew not to argue with her when she got like this. So he got out of the car and followed her inside.

“Oy! You’re late!”

Tom looked over to one of the tables in the corner, confused. Next to a jukebox were two men. They were about the same age as him, dressed in leathers and traditional biker gear. One had a dark beard and bandana while the other was bald-faced, with short brown hair and sparkling dark blue eyes. They were looking expectantly at him and Barbara.

“Sorry guys. I had to stop to piss a few times,” Barbara replied easily.

“Still got that wicked mouth on ya!” the bearded man laughed.

“So then, this is the guy?” the other asked.

“Totally.” She waved theatrically at Tom. “My dearest husband whose libido is still begging for release.”

“Eh?” Tom looked between Barbara and the two men.

“Surprise!” Barbara grabbed Tom’s hand and dragged him over to the two men. “These guys are looking for groupies and I  _ knew _ you would be a fan.”

“You haven’t even introduced us!” Tom complained.

“I’m Tor,” the bearded man said. He thumbed at the other one. “This is my brother, Odin.”

“Did you guys really seriously change your names?” Barbara asked flatly.

“You knew we were going to,” Odin replied.

“They’d been going on about changing their names for  _ forever _ ,” Barbara said.

Tom couldn’t quite believe it. “Your surprise is making me a groupie for these two?”

“Of course!” Barbara ducked in and whispered into his ear, “I know you want it. And I want to give it to you. Who else would be better than a pair of rock gods?”

He choked up, just a little. How had she known? Known what he’d wanted for so long? The hole she filled in him wasn’t small, but it still left room for more. People who knew and understood his struggle as an artist. People who…

“You guys in town and settled then?” Odin’s question cut through his thoughts.

“Not yet. Still gotta drag this downer to the cabin.”

“That cabin on the lake?” Tor pursed his lips. “Y’know, we got our farmhouse that you could stay at.”

“I don’t like to mix my pleasure with others. You should know that by now!” Barbara teased. “The farmhouse will be for you boys. The cabin will be for me and Tom.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Tom interjected. He felt a little left out of the conversation.

“‘Sweetheart’? Are we talking about the same person?” Odin asked. “You do realize she won the annual drinking contest three years in a row, right?”

“I’m his muse, remember?” Barbara told them. “Anything I do is sweet to him.”

“Right.” Odin took a drink of what looked like milk. Licking his lips, he said, “Any chance you could get the coconut song going on the jukebox, Tom?”

“For Odin’s sake! You have legs! Use ‘em!” Tor grumbled.

“Sciatica,” Odin countered.

“ _ What _ sciatica?! You’re not even 35!”

Tom chuckled at the back-and-forth. Barbara knew him too well. These two were his type.

“That new hit song then?” Tom asked as he made his way to the jukebox.

“Yeah!”

It only took a moment to find the song he was referring to. A few button presses and a whack later saw the song beginning to play softly throughout the cafe.

“Good!” Odin laughed as he exclaimed, “I  _ like _ you! Barbara’s set-up was right on the nose.”

“I think you’re right,” Tom agreed, sparing a glance at his wife. A half-lidded smirk met his gaze.

* * *

Tom swallowed.

Here he was. Outside of the Anderson residence. Barbara had dropped him off for the night, giggling about all the fun the three men would have. His wonderful muse, understanding his needs so well…

Now, it was about him. Him, Tor, and Odin. The two rather attractive rock gods who wanted the same thing as him.

He nearly jumped as the door swung open with a clatter.

“What are you doing just standing there?!” Tor boomed. “Hurry up and come in! We’ve got some brainstorming to do!”

Tom blinked before shaking his head. Taking the invitation, he skipped up the steps and into the Anderson home.

“C’mon! In here!” Tor led him into the next room where Odin was sitting playing with a guitar. It was a long-necked thing with a twisted body. Tom didn’t really know guitars, but he did know that it was a bit of a crazy design. The room itself was very large, with two comfortable-looking couches and a rough wooden table settled in front of a roaring fireplace.

“Welcome to Valhalla!” Odin greeted enthusiastically. “Or, at least, our little slice of it.”

“Cozy,” Tom murmured as he took his jacket off and laid it against the back of a couch.

“So formal! Didn’t Barbara loosen you up at all? Here. This is how you properly deal with that.” Tor snatched Tom’s jacket up before carelessly tossing it back onto the couch. It landed haphazardly, splaying out; chaotic, like the brothers.

“So then…” Tom didn’t really...know how to start this. He was sure they knew, and he was sure they knew he knew. Still, it was daunting to actually  _ do _ it.

“Let’s pull the ties off and toss ‘em in the fire first,” Tor declared. Odin handed him a bottle of something. 

“So then, boys…” Tor cheekily grinned at both of them. “Time to get to work?”

“Hell yeah! Let’s go!” Odin said. “Get this party started!”

Tom chuckled. “Let’s get this party going.”

* * *

“Poets of the Fall?” Tom laughed loosely at that. “Y’all were thinkin’ of bein’ Poets of the Fall?”

“It’s all poetic and junk,” Tor defended, swinging his iron hammer around. “It jus’ didn’ ‘ave that...that  _ dark metal _ feelin’, y’know?”

“I get it,” Tom said. And he did! Still, Poets of the Fall...it wasn’t a  _ bad _ name. He would use it in one of his writings as a throw-away joke of some kind. A reference to Odin and Tor, an homage if one would. It would be filed away with the other small ideas he had for projects that were mostly out of his reach, such as his Alan Wake novel.

“Anyway, songs.” Odin jiggled the empty bottle he was holding while he toyed with a rather long hunting knife. “Let’s pull out the  _ real _ stuff.”

Tor laughed. He got up and dug around on a shelf before producing three jugs. “Here. Take a swig of this. It’s our patented moonshine!”

“Moonshine?” Tom was liking these guys more and more!

“It’s the best,” Tor enthused. “This place already has some kinda...magical effect. Real reality-shaking stuff. This moonshine just makes it all the stronger!”

Tom was curious on the ‘magical effect’ comment but found himself far too interested in the moonshine to question it. Instead, he took the proffered jug and raised it. “Ta our muses, an’ creativity.”

“Hear hear to that!” Odin cried, knocking his own jug with Tom’s and taking a swig. Tom joined him after a moment.

It struck him like a freight truck. The flavor was intense, the burning even moreso. He nearly dropped the jug in surprise.

“Yeah, it’s a bit strong,” Odin admitted too late.

“I see that.” Somehow, already the moonshine was washing over his senses. He took another drink. “Phew.”

“Things are gonna start getting freaky. The  _ best _ kind of freaky,” Tor said. “We’ve come up with a bunch of stuff while we’re toasted.”

“Can’ wait ta see it,” Tom said. He relaxed against the couch. Tor picked up the hammer and began tracing it along Tom’s jaw.

“Yer kinda pretty,” Tor noted. “Got the smooth jawline and perky lips.”

“I know.” Tom looked at him with unfocused eyes. “Wanna take a taste?”

“For a poet, you don’t got those fancy words,” Odin said.

“‘m more a metaphors guy,” Tom countered.

Tor laughed. “I c’n see i’.”

Tom took the leap suddenly. He leaned forward and locked lips with Tor. His breath was hot, heavy with booze. His beard was scratchy, a new sensation from kissing women like Barbara. He smelled strongly of leather and mild body odor. It didn’t detract from the experience; if anything, it made it more intense.

“Hey now, don’t get started without me,” Odin complained as he got up from the couch to join the two of them.

Tom was already tearing his shirt off. Tor was tearing off his pants, tongue roughly tumbling with Tom. Excitement was pumping in Tom’s chest, through his veins. The moonshine was altering his senses, pulling his mind in strange directions. It felt like...something was brushing against his thoughts.

His breath caught in his throat when Tor slipped his hand down Tom’s pants. Feeling his hand pressing against his cock...it was  _ exhilarating _ .

Tom leaned backwards as Odin began kissing his neck. It was like ambrosia for his imagination. Lyrics, words, art made of words flowed through his mind. He found himself muttering things aloud. Poems, songs, he didn’t know beyond his every senses being flooded with sensations that he couldn’t even describe.

**I See You There.**

Tom froze. He was so lost in sensation that he was literally lost; all he could see, feel, smell,  _ taste _ around him was darkness. His heart was pounding as he panicked; where had Tor and Odin gone? Where  _ was _ he?

**So Consumed With Lust And Greed You Forgot Dear Barbara.**

Barbara?

**She’s Dead Now.**

He stopped breathing. “What?”

**She Drowned.**

“No…” As insane as the words were, at the same time he knew, absolutely  _ knew _ , it was true. “How…?”

Tom began struggling in the emptiness. He had to get to her. Had to…!

**You Can Still Save Her.**

The darkness receded slightly. In the empty space was a desk with a typewriter. He recognized it; it was the antique that Barbara had brought with them in case he had a brain flash for a new poem.

**All You Need Do Is Write.**

Tom sat down at the chair. The first few words were halting. Eventually, they flowed.

A squelching noise suddenly caught his attention. As fast as it had happened, it was gone.

**Pay No Attention. Listen To Me.**

He listened intently. He listened to It, and the words it gave him. He knew it was right.

Tom wasn’t very good with prose. He was far better off with iambic pentameter than structured paragraphs. Nevertheless, he wrote what the voice suggested to him. What he needed to write to save his precious Barbara.

Words shaped the world around him. The darkness took shapes before fleeing, again leaving him in the empty darkness.

Soon yet not soon enough, Barbara was there again. Her same witty smirk, her same flowery fashion.

...and yet...there was something...wrong. He looked into her eyes and saw none of the spark of his Barbara.

“Hello, naughty boy.” The words should’ve been right. But they weren’t. They were empty.

“You…” Tom’s mouth flopped open and closed before he uttered, “You aren’t my Barbara…!”

“Now now, don’t be like that!” Her grin that was trying to be catty was simply unsettling. “You won’t have to worry about losing me ever again. We’ll stay here together. Forever.”

“Who… _ what _ are you? This dark presence…” Tom felt the cold starting to seep into him.

Suddenly, something smashed. The darkness fell away as strong, loud chords of incredible music filtered into the space. Tom snapped out of the strange stupor he’d been in, light shining into the dark area. The fake Barbara flinched backwards. She covered her eyes, shrieking, as she and the darkness around her fled.

Tom had fallen to the ground. He was shaking, trying to reconcile what was going on. The darkness had given way to the clearing just outside of the cabin he and Barbara had rented.

“Yo!”

His head snapped up as a hand came into his view. He looked up to find Tor looking down, a crooked grin on his face as he held one hand out while the other one balanced both the same large iron hammer from before and a flashlight.

“You back now? You got lost a while ago,” Tor noted.

“What…?” Tom was absolutely confused.  _ What in the world had just happened _ ?

“It’s not over yet!” he heard Odin call out from somewhere behind them. Tom looked over to see Odin swinging his guitar around like a bat. To his surprise, he realized that Tor’s bandana was now wrapped around Odin’s face, over his eye. It was bloody there.

Tom’s gaze followed where Odin was indicating. He stumbled as he realized there were people there. Shadowy people. A dark aura encompassing them only highlighted their obviously violent intentions.   
  
“C’mon. We’ll get you back to safety. Or, at least, as safe as this... _ thing _ ...will let us be.” Tor slung Tom’s arm around his shoulders. “Odin! Cover us! We’re gonna go back to the farm!”

“No problem-o, bro!” Odin lit up a flare and charged at the approaching group.

Tom was overwhelmed. His mind was rushing, trying to understand things that had no pieces that matched. He slumped against Tor.

“Try to stay with me!” he heard Tor say through cotton. “Try…

“...stay…”

* * *

_ “It’s time to wake up, my naughty boy.” _

Tom jumped from where he was laying. He fell to the floor before rolling over onto his knees. His eyes looked around, unfocused, trying to figure out-

“Whoa now! Easy there!” Odin was suddenly there, helping to prop Tom up. “We nearly lost you!”

“What-I just-Barbara?!” Tom spluttered.

“Shhhh. It’s okay, Tom. It’s fine. You’re safe.”

“For now,” Tor said as he walked into the room from the stairs. Tom looked between him and Odin. They were both roughed up and dirty, with torn and bloody leathers and that same bloody spot on Odin’s head.

“What happened?” Tom looked out the window only to be caught off-guard by just how dark it was. A swirling pool of darkness was all he could see.

“Yeah, so, remember how we told you this place is all magical?” Tor sighed. “Apparently it was only okay with us. It  _ liked _ you.”

“Enough that it took you that night a couple of weeks ago.”

Tom’s world tilted as his mind raced, trying to take in both what the Anderson brothers were saying and the little that he’d absorbed in the void of darkness. “A couple of weeks ago?”

“Oh yeah! It interrupted our threesome - which I absolutely demand we finish once this is over,” Odin grumbled. “I barely even got a taste!”

“It got into all of our minds.” Tor tapped the side of his head. “Normally the moonshine doesn’t have  _ that _ hard of an effect. We must’ve made it too potent, giving it an edge to get to us all.”

“Wait…” Tom shook his head. “If it got into all of our minds...how did…?”

“You can thank Odin for that,” Tor said. “Crazy bastard dug it out of his skull with his knife!”

“I was meaning to do that anyway,” Odin responded with a wave of his hand. “It just gave me a good reason to.”

“So your eye?”

“Gone, like those song lyrics you were waxing poetic about,” Tor said with a sigh.

“This...darkness...this...this Dark Presence…” Tom slowly got to his feet. “It uses artists. It uses us to shape the world.”

“Yeah, we kinda got that part,” Odin noted dryly. “Considering this metaphor-heavy hellscape you wrote.” At Tom’s glance, Odin waved at the table. “Grabbed some of your junk before we retreated to here.”

Tom looked down to see what appeared to be a manuscript. Looking closer, he could see it was in a script format for the most part, with monologues separated out. He leafed through the papers to find himself vaguely reminded of everything he must have written.

His gut dropped as he realized he’d left it mostly complete. The story started with himself and Barbara coming. It ended with the Dark Presence descending on the town.

“Ain’t there somethin’ we can break? Some kind of core or something?” Odin asked. “It can’t be all doom ‘n’ gloom.”

...Yes. Yes, there had to be a way out. The story wasn’t finished. Maybe...maybe he could…?

Fix everything. Save himself, Barbara, Tor, Odin, all of them. Stop it…

It was a pipe dream. He’d felt it, while he was inside it. There was nothing to oppose it. It was nearly a god. There had to be an opposite, somewhere. Another god to hold it back.

“It’s just us,” he said aloud.

“Hell, we’re enough!” Tor boomed. Cheekily, he noted, “We’re the Old Gods of Asgard! We’ll beat its ass into eternity, and then again in Valhalla!”

“I’m no god,” Tom said. Then, more thoughtfully, he added, “...I’m not a god  _ now _ .”

“Eh? What’s that supposed to mean?” Odin laughed. “Sorry Tom, but your singing voice isn’t gonna get you into the band. You’re stuck as our groupie.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” The idea began solidifying in his mind. “I think I can stop it.”

“Oh ho! That’s good to hear!” Tor swung the hammer around. “So then, what do we have to break?”

“I need you to distract it. Draw its attention. I need to get back to writing,” Tom said. He grabbed the pages from the table. “I need to finish this.”

“We’ll come along-”

“ _ Alone _ ,” he interrupted.

Tor paused as Odin chuckled behind his hand. “You sure, Tom?”

Tom nodded. “Yeah.” He paused for a second. “...We have a few minutes before we have to. You guys up for…?”

Now Odin’s laugh was loud. As he started undressing himself, he said, “Haha! I knew you were gonna go there!”

“Sex is  _ always _ a good idea,” Tor noted as he, too, began undressing. “Especially goodbye sex.”

“No regrets?” Tom’s shirt was already off.

Odin and Tor both nodded, agreeing, “No regrets.”


End file.
